I slept like a king last night (after rambling on and on in the post I wrote below). I woke up at a decent hour and checked out. Five seconds later, I checked back in -- this time, as a participant in the VISTA (Volunteer In Service to America) program. I had a sandwich in the restaurant and a Diet Coke. This Diet Coke, from the fountain - unlike last night's - tasted just fine. I read USA Today. I'm trying to keep my mind occupied.
Right now, I'm sitting at a coffee table in the lobby. There's almost no activity here. I've seen them setting up the registration area in the ballroom down the hall. I'm waiting for the time to go over and sign in, but I still have several minutes - and actually a few hours after that - and I don't want to be that guy.
I have all the forms that I need with me. My car survived the first night in the parking lot. (Knock wood.) I've seen the news. I'm not hungry. I'm not tired. My book is upstairs. I think I'll tear into it after I get signed in. But for right now, I'm just waiting. Waiting. Killing time.
One year of national service starts any minute now. I jumped through a whole lot of hoops to get here.
I'm locked in the blocks, waiting on the starter's gun. I feel like I'm in a staring contest with my own damn reflection.
I could murder a Diet Coke right now. Dwelling on Pink Floyd:
Digging away the moments that make up a dull day
You fritter and waste the hours in and of that way
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town
Waiting for some one or something to show you the way.
Within thirty seconds of publishing the above post, a busload of mixed demographics just unloaded and poured into the lobby. "My Spider Sense is tingling."
ReplyDeleteYou need to get your hands on a Daniel Silva novel.
ReplyDelete